


like i'm a fool (a fool)

by wonyus



Category: K-pop, The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Claustrophobia, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Light Angst, M/M, Rated teen for language, also my wackass sister beta read this so if there are any mistakes it's her fault, half of this is set in a cafe and i didn't notice until i was literally done im. sorry, lapslock, mentioned moonbae and bbangkyu, messy messy messy tags, sorry for the dead meme references but kevin would 1000 percent make them so. im valid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 07:02:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18911929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonyus/pseuds/wonyus
Summary: five times choi chanhee had to hide his love for kevin moon, and one time he didn't.





	like i'm a fool (a fool)

**Author's Note:**

> don't mind me just projecting my love for kevin onto him through chanhee ha ha. ha ha ha
> 
> title taken from [like a fool](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PvvBo6MGPLs) by twice!

_ one. _

 

chanhee feels like he’s in a dream.

the sun streams in lazily through the bluish gray of kevin’s curtains, casting distorted shadows on the faded carpet. he can see each dust mote as it makes its way through the rays of light, aimless, floating, visible even against the backdrop of the off-white wall.

his eyes drift to the posters lining the sides of the bedroom, ranging all the way from kevin’s favorite k-pop group to beyoncé. chanhee feels a slow smile spread across his lips as he thinks about how much variety kevin’s music taste covers, because kevin has so much _love_ in his heart. enough to give to every style of music, every friend and acquaintance, every piece of artwork he’s ever made. _everything,_ god, kevin loves _everything,_ but chanhee loves him more than all of it combined.

he lets the smile fade as his eyes continue over to the piano placed in the corner of the room, and he sighs only thinking of kevin when he plays. the way his fingers glide over the keys, slender and graceful; the way he’ll sometimes sing along softly, but only in front of people he trusts most. he thinks of kevin’s giant, boxy, joyous smile, the one that he’s always thought the entire world deserves to see. he thinks about kevin’s bad jokes, his puns, his _moonscribbles,_ as they were dubbed at some point or other; he thinks about how open kevin is with others, how everyone seems to either fall in love with him on sight or just plain wish they could _be_ him. chanhee belongs in the former category, for sure.

god, he’s fucked.

he lets himself look over at kevin, lying on top of the sheets that match the color of the curtains. he’s softly smiling down at his drawing pad as the stylus glides over the screen, creating something chanhee knows will be beautiful, no matter how simple. his black hair is falling forward, into his eyes, and chanhee watches as he reaches up to tuck it behind his ear. a pointless effort, really, because he just got it trimmed, and it falls right back to where it was.

kevin starts to hum, legs up in the air, lightly swinging them along to the beat of the song softly playing from his bluetooth speaker. it’s an alexa, chanhee knows, because kevin only got it so he could tell it to play despacito.

(it was ages ago, enough for the joke to be long dead by now— and chanhee tried to keep it from happening, he did, but kevin’s bright laugh after he said _this is so sad, alexa, play despacito_ for the first time was worth the disappointment chanhee got from their friends for his inability to stop it.)

kevin rolls over, suddenly, holding the device close above his head and squinting to inspect it. chanhee always tells him he needs to get his eyes checked, but kevin’s been adamant for years that he doesn’t need glasses, and that he’d look bad with them anyways. chanhee tells him that that’s bullshit, he can barely read the board in class daily, and also he’d look fine with the right style. both of them are too stubborn to back down, even now.

chanhee pulls his eyes away, if only so he doesn’t get caught looking, but his eyes latch on to the small sliver of stomach exposed from when kevin’s shirt rode up as he turned over. he stops, looks for another moment, swallowing, breathless, _too affected by this;_ snaps his eyes away and glues them to the ceiling. he can feel the dusting of pink in his cheeks, and he prays kevin doesn’t notice— although chanhee knows he didn’t.

because kevin never has. he’s never noticed the lingering looks chanhee gives him, never noticed the love that slips into chanhee’s eyes whenever kevin does the smallest idiotic thing. he’s never noticed the way chanhee gives in to his every whim, every desire. he’s never noticed the thousands of times chanhee’s been just a few words away from finally _saying it,_ finally putting the words _i love you_ out into the world, for him.

kevin’s never noticed, and so all he does is roll back over so he can continue drawing.

god, _god_ he’s fucked.

 

_ two. _

 

“you’re in love with kevin, aren’t you?”

chanhee spits his water everywhere.

“damn, i didn’t think you’d actually do a spit take. now i owe younghoon ten bucks. bitch.”

chanhee stares at changmin. “you _bet_ on whether or not i’d spit everywhere when you asked me— asked me _that?_ did you _purposefully_ wait until i took a sip of my water to say it? and why the fuck would you do it while we’re in a _café?”_

changmin shrugs, watching as chanhee snatches up a napkin to clean up the water on the table. “be glad i didn’t do it when you drank your coffee. i knew you’d order a water, because you always order something cold to ‘balance out the hot,’ as you say, because you’re a dumbass before you’re a cheap bitch.” he pauses. “and yes, of course we bet on you. we bet on you all the time, chanhee. what do you think we do to entertain ourselves?”

he gapes at changmin. “what do you even bet— you know what, never mind. i don’t want to know. _jesus,_ you guys really are the most satanic couple i’ve ever seen.” changmin grins at him, looking like the absolute snake nobody but chanhee seems to know he is. “wait, why were you and younghoon _betting_ on whether or not i love kevin? no, not even— you were betting on how i’d _react?”_

“well, yeah, because we already know that you’re in love with him.”

chanhee's heart drops to somewhere in his stomach. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“yes, you do. it’s really obvious, you know. i’m pretty sure everyone _except_ kevin knows, at this point. even juyeon.” changmin raises his eyebrows meaningfully at the last bit, because if juyeon figures something out on his own, everyone really _does_ know. it's not like the guy's a _complete_ idiot, but... well. chanhee had really hoped he’d never have to live to see the day where kevin was more oblivious about feelings than juyeon.

he just looks at changmin for another moment, still taken aback. he wants to ask why on earth changmin would ask him that, what made him come to that conclusion, where he even got the _idea_ from. what observation made him think that, why both he and younghoon thought it true enough to call it fact, why they each decided to approach chanhee about it.

but before he gets any of it out of his mouth, he realizes. he lets himself take a step back, and knows it’s just deflection.

because he already knows the answer to changmin’s questions. he knows that changmin’s right, that it does come from somewhere; this time around, although it pains him to say it, changmin’s just as perceptive as he thinks himself to be. he really is in love with kevin, and it really is as clear as day once you see it. chanhee would do anything for kevin, anything he asked— he’d go cliché for him, say _i’d give you the world, if that’s what you wanted,_ for him, because he would. he’d embarrass himself, be unhappy for the rest of his life, put himself through hell and back, if only it meant kevin laughed for him just once.

he deflates, all the fight going out of him, and he knows changmin sees it. that’s why this conversation is happening in the first place, isn’t it? because changmin always has seen it.

“yeah,” he says finally, voice quiet. he clenches the napkin between his hands. “yeah, i know exactly what you’re talking about.”

changmin’s eyes soften. he reaches out across the table, grabbing chanhee’s hands and pulling them into his own, napkin and all. “hey,” he says, squeezing. “it’ll be okay, alright?” he pauses, and chanhee can tell he’s debating over whether or not he should tell chanhee something. he sounds hesitant when he eventually speaks, like he’s walking on eggshells. “maybe… maybe you could tell him how you feel? anything could happen, you know.”

and there it is.

chanhee feels disappointment rise up in his gut, everywhere, crashing down around him. changmin’s stupid if he really thinks chanhee hasn’t thought of it, thought of it hundreds of thousands of times, thought of it for years.

stupid, stupid, stupid. he wonders who he’s even talking about anymore.

he tugs his hands away, changmin’s pity pounding all around him like he’s been caught in a hailstorm but forgot his umbrella. “that’s just it, isn’t it,” chanhee mutters bitterly. _“anything.”_ he spits it out like it’s a curse. _“anything_ could happen, changmin. he could reject me. hurt me. hate me. date me out of pity. stop talking to me. or it could mess with our friend group, even— everything would be awkward.” he laughs, harshly. “it could ruin more than you’d think. it could ruin _anything.”_

changmin’s quiet for a moment. the hail comes down harder. it’s golf ball-sized now.

“you’ve really thought about this, haven’t you?” changmin finally asks, pain in his eyes. chanhee jerks his head in a nod, looking away. head-on, changmin’s words are too sincere, too much like care, too much like more than just pity. “i just want you to be happy, chanhee. that’s all any of us want.”

“i can’t fuck up the group just because of a stupid crush on my best friend. do you have any idea how selfish that would be, changmin? it wouldn’t only be me that got hurt.”

“it’s not just a crush, and you know it,” changmin argues back, determined. “and it’s not selfish to want to be happy. the fact that you’re _not_ happy hurts us more than things getting a little screwy for a bit. we _care about you,_ chanhee, can’t you see that?”

they both go silent, and it stays that way for a minute, with only the sounds of the rest of the café between them. chanhee wipes at some stray droplets of water on the table with the napkin. clears his throat. “you think i should talk to him,” he says, finally. it’s quieter than he meant for it to be.

changmin smiles, soft, and suddenly there _is_ an umbrella over chanhee’s head and his roommate's there next to him, smiling, calling him a fucking dumbass but making sure he’s okay enough to walk home. “yes,” he says, just as quiet as chanhee had been, and chanhee’s going to respond until he can’t.

“who’s this mysterious ‘him’ that we’re gonna talk to?” kevin asks, throwing his backpack on to the booth next to chanhee and plopping down. “and why are we asking for changmin’s advice? i thought everyone agreed that mine is worth much more than his could ever hope to be.” he winks, badly, and then laughs.

it’s then that chanhee registers that he has to scoot over, so he does, jerkily, pulse racing like he just ran a marathon. he feels like he’s about to pass out, and if he weren’t so startled he’d glare at changmin for being amused despite this absolutely horrendous turn of events because jesus fucking _christ,_ kevin.

his mouth goes dry, then, because in no way, shape or form had chanhee had the option to prepare himself to deal with kevin right now. his hair is extra fluffy today, he’s wearing an oversized hoodie, he has a _smirk_ on his face, and even after chanhee’s moved they’re still far, far, far too close to each other.

and what if kevin had overheard _literally any more of their conversation?_ god, meeting up in public spaces is so overrated. he vows to never do it again. for health purposes. he's pretty sure he’s having a heart attack.

“hello?” kevin asks, waving his beautiful hands right in chanhee’s line of vision. _staring._ “earth to chanhee?”

chanhee snaps his head away, coughing awkwardly. “what? sorry, i wasn’t paying attention.” his laugh sounds strained. changmin looks like he’s trying not to die of horrible, unsympathetic amusement.

kevin snorts. “clearly.” he starts to rummage around in his bag, searching for something. his eyebrows furrow. “where is it… aha!” he pulls out his drawing pad, triumphant. “oh, i was asking why you were talking to changmin about advice. because his sucks.” changmin scowls.

“oh, i, uh… it’s, um, nothing. i was just wondering if he knew anything about the, uh, project i have to do for... mr. lee, since changmin’s had the class before.” changmin glares at him, because chanhee’s a shit liar under pressure, and for some reason he also probably expects chanhee to spill his guts to kevin right then and there.

chanhee’s right, apparently, because changmin gives him a look with _meaning._ but chanhee avoids his eyes.

because even if changmin thinks he gets it, he doesn’t. chanhee cares too much, too much for changmin to comprehend. it’s not the _group’s_ friendship he doesn’t think he can bear to lose, bear to smash a wrecking ball through _(in typical miley cyrus fashion,_ as kevin would say insufferably). not his own, even.

it’s kevin’s.

kevin isn’t his to have, and their friendship isn’t his to take. yes, he wants to scream _i love you_ from the rooftops; yes, he wants tell the entire world just how it feels to be in love with kevin moon; yes, he wants to spend a rainy day inside next to his boyfriend with the only words leaving his lips being _i love you, kevin moon._ of course he wants all of that.

but kevin doesn’t. and chanhee can’t be the one to take the love of his life’s best friend away.

 

_ three. _

 

“why do you act so weird around jacob?”

chanhee stills. stops for a moment, thinks. “please elaborate, kind sir.”

“you never relax around him, and sometimes you leave when he shows up. really abruptly, too. why? do you… like him?”

chanhee could laugh. _this_ is what kevin decides to observe. he’s got it backwards— jacob’s not the one chanhee likes. _he really is that oblivious when it comes to things involving himself._

the only reason kevin even figured out jacob liked him, liked him enough to want to date him, was because jacob, in a very clear and no-way-to-be-misunderstood fashion, asked kevin out. chanhee’s been in love with kevin for years and, _still,_ he’s none the wiser.

he lets himself snort. it’s kind of loud, and he wonders if anyone else in the café hears it. “no.”

“well, then, what is it? and don’t even try to deny it, chanhee, i know you better than anyone. i can tell when you’re keeping something from me.”

_can you really?_

“it’s nothing, kevin. i swear.” now he’s anxious. he burns holes into his notebook with his eyes.

kevin’s quiet for a second. when he speaks, his voice sounds hurt. betrayed. “if you don’t want to tell me, chanhee, that’s fine. but please don’t lie to me.” he pauses. “i’d like it if my boyfriend and my best friend got along.”

and that’s when it hits chanhee, just how much it _hurts._ there are tears pricking at his eyes, but he shoves them back; pretends he’s not getting choked up, even though for some dumb reason he’s claustrophobic and right now it feels like the world is closing in around him. it squeezes his lungs into thin passageways he can barely breathe through, it crushes his heart into tiny bits, and it really doesn’t matter how many times he tries to push it back because all it does is keep on getting _smaller._ the box around his heart is breaking, splintering at the seams, his stupid feelings are two of kevin’s blinding smiles away from bursting free and all he wants to scream is _i love you_ but kevin doesn’t feel the same and this _will not_ be the thing that makes kevin leave because chanhee _needs him to stay._

it’s been minutes of silence, and kevin has turned to studying. that’s what this is supposed to be, anyways: a study session. even if they almost always end up talking the entire time instead of doing work.

but not this time.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers. kevin looks up at him, and chanhee avoids his eyes. “i can’t— i don’t know how to tell you what’s wrong.” he swallows, hard, feeling like his throat is about to close, about to fail him. “but i’ll try to be better.” he forces himself to turn to kevin, then. steady. “i promise.” kevin looks back at him, studies him, hurts him.

“alright,” kevin responds, just as softly. chanhee breathes a sigh of relief, giving him a quick, tiny smile before bending over to get his notebook from his bag. maybe this really could be a good day to get stuff done.

it’s silent for the rest of their study session. or, at least, it would be.

“hey!” chanhee hears somebody in the distance call, and his heart stops. his breathing quickens, because he’d expected to have to deal with ignoring the pain he feels whenever he third wheels with kevin and jacob _later,_ when he was _prepared._ not _now._ not this soon.

but jacob appears in front of them anyways, sunny like he thinks the world is a great place to live in, happy like it’s a normal thing to feel as he begins to head over to their booth from where he spotted them at the entrance to the café. there’s a huge smile on his face, and honestly it’s pretty cute— and as he says hello, chanhee lets himself admit that jacob’s super nice, too. it’s one of the reasons he feels so horrible for kind-of-hating him. (their friends even nicknamed him something about being an angel, which chanhee tries to convince them is ridiculous but is actually kind of valid.)

maybe he can do this. it’s not like he has to deal with an asshole, on top of everything. all he has to do is… pretend like jacob’s just another friend. just a really, really, really affectionate friend. yeah. he straightens his shoulders, putting a smile on his face that not only passes as genuine, but, just possibly, might be.

chanhee watches as jacob slides into the booth next to kevin, bright smile still in place, and leans over to place a sweet kiss on kevin’s cheek.

it’s like a flip’s been switched. kevin goes beet red, shy, and weakly punches jacob in the arm as they both— cue vomiting _here— giggle._ they’re arm-to-arm, and chanhee can tell that their hands are intertwined under the table.

never mind.

“i invited jacob,” kevin says, beaming. “i hope you don’t mind.”

and suddenly, it feels like the world is getting smaller again.

studying together, at this café, is something _they_ do. of course, it’s not like kevin and chanhee don’t study with other people, it’s not like he’s being that irrational— but the café has always been _theirs._ no one else comes off campus with them. they’re the regulars, they’re the ones that frequent, they’re the ones that get discounts and sometimes even free slices of coffee cake because _they’re_ the ones that have come to be friends with the employee named felix who’s sweet enough to sneak them pieces behind his boss’s back.

and now kevin’s brought someone else along. not just someone else, but his boyfriend.

this is why chanhee can’t relax, why he leaves the second jacob enters a room. because this, kevin’s relationship, is something he can try to escape. he can get away from this— go to the bathroom, pretend (not really) that he feels sick, fake a friend’s emergency, etcetera, etcetera. it’s how he keeps himself breathing, keeps his lungs from collapsing, keeps the world from closing in around him.

but kevin must see it. _you promised,_ his eyes say to chanhee, pleading, and so he shoves the feeling deep down, down so far he can almost convince himself that it works, that he’s buried it, hidden it from the light. because he did promise.

chanhee forces out a laugh. it sounds hollow, even to him. “of course i don’t mind. it’s nice to see you, jacob.” he tries to pile it on. make it seem as sincere as it could have been. wishes it was.

_please don’t lie to me._

lies, lies, lies.

_i love you._

truths, truths, truths.

 

_ four. _

 

all it is is another tuesday afternoon for chanhee. after he goes to class he heads to the café that’s off campus with kevin, because both of their last classes end at the same time that day and the one on campus is always too crowded at the hour for them to feel like they can breathe. they walk for about fifteen minutes or so to get there, usually, because it’s good to get out a bit and most of the time the weather is pretty nice.

 _most_ of the time. because today, they’ve only been walking for five minutes on their way back to campus when it starts to rain. hard.

chanhee gapes at the gray, weeping sky for a second, feeling betrayed. his phone said it wasn’t going to rain until _after_ they’d walked back to the dorms, long after. dumbass weather app.

“you’re kidding,” he breathes, but kevin doesn’t hear. he’s too busy laughing.

it’s almost maniacal, the way he whoops, and chanhee looks at him as if he’s just lost his mind. kevin is in no way bothered by this, because all he does is keep on yelling and yelling and laughing and laughing and spinning and spinning in circles on the sidewalk, around and around and around until he’s dizzy. there are cars driving by, people watching him and judging him, but kevin just clumsily whirls on his heel to look at chanhee with the brightest smile chanhee thinks he’s ever seen, ever will see— and, he thinks, is the only one that could ever take his breath away just like _that._

“join me, watson!” kevin calls jokingly. happy, joyful, free.

so he does.

he runs, he skips, he laughs, he holds kevin’s hand as they jump in puddles, synchronized. he stumbles and trips and sticks his tongue out at the people in cars who sneer at their soaked clothes and insane cackling and clogged shoes. he gasps when kevin jumps into a puddle that somehow has him up to his knees, and although kevin’s shocked for a moment, he wastes no time in turning to pull chanhee in behind him, just to hear his screech.

they’re soaked by the time they get back, soaked to the bone, but chanhee looks at kevin’s wet strands of hair and reddened cheeks and bright, bright eyes and knows he wouldn’t trade any of it for the world.

 _i love you,_ he thinks, but it’s happy this time. he thinks it like it’s a smile, secret; a laugh, breathless; a giggle, one that you try to hold in but still inevitably escapes. he feels it like it’s an ocean overflowing, except that’s just a comparison, because the ocean is his heart and the water is love and the waves are the feelings pushing, gushing, crashing their way onto land and invading all of the things that are no longer in order.

but water is the source of all things, isn’t it— the base for all things alive, living. so although it’s an intruder, it’s welcome, in a way; as welcome as the rain is, today, to kevin.

“why are you looking at me like that?” kevin asks, nervous. “do i have mud in my hair or something?”

chanhee just grins at him, smile wide as it can be. “no, kevin. there’s no mud in your hair.” sweet, sweet oblivion.

kevin frowns at his happiness, suspicious, and reaches up to feel his hair. he presses the strands between his fingers and drags his hands down, pulling them away to inspect them for mud, and every time he finds nothing, he sends chanhee a confused look and his brows furrow further. it’s cute.

the words are and endless mantra in his head. _i love you i love you i love you._

it feels good to love himself, too, when he thinks it.

 

_ five. _

 

it’s a cold, cold day in winter, one where the world can’t seem to decide between rain and sleet, even if the neverending pinging of water hitting the roof is forever constant. the sky is gray and the sun is nowhere to be found, the world plunged into a dark and dreary state with barely any distinction between day and night. it’s a weekend, which means chanhee doesn’t have classes, so he’s cooped up in his room by himself, feeling like he’s stuck in some alternate dimension because _when was the last time i talked to someone? what day is it again? does time even exist?_

he stares at the ceiling, some voice in the back of his mind that sounds suspiciously like sangyeon distantly yelling at him to do his goddamn homework, because what if it _is_ sunday and not saturday? there’s that essay that’s due on monday… has he even started it yet? he should probably do that. probably.

there’s a knock. he frowns for a moment, confused— he didn’t think anyone was going to come over today, and changmin isn’t supposed to be back from younghoon’s until later. or maybe it is later? but changmin would just let himself in, if he was back. unless he forgot his keys. chanhee sighs at the ceiling. changmin definitely forgot his keys.

chanhee hauls himself up off the bed, running a hand through his hair and shuffling his way into the hallway. he rubs at his eyes, sniffing, wondering when the last time he ate anything was. maybe he’ll force changmin to make him something. his hand latches on to the door handle, fully intent on yelling and then proceeding to bully changmin into being his slave for the rest of the day.

“i can’t believe you forgot your keys _again,_ dumbass, i swear to g—”

it’s not changmin.

it’s kevin, red-eyed, with tear-stained cheeks and teeth chattering. he’s wearing a hoodie much too big for him, one that chanhee knows is from his years in high school because it’s sporting the phrase _normal people scare me_ and kevin doesn’t watch american horror story anymore. there are dark spots on the shoulders of it from the rain, and other little droplets of water stick to the black material of the beanie he has on. it’s shoved so far down that his ears stick out a bit, the tips pink with cold, and chanhee wonders why kevin’s such an idiot for not just covering them with the hat. kevin reaches up to adjust his glasses, and chanhee ignores the slight pang he feels when he remembers how jacob was the one to convince him to finally get them, because that’s not important when he can clearly see that kevin’s hands are shaking.

it takes chanhee all but a second to take everything in, and about that long for the questions to start tumbling from his lips. “oh my god, kevin, what are you doing, how long did it take you to get here, jesus did you _walk?_ i swear, kevin, i’m gonna hit you, why are you still _standing there,_ come _inside—”_

a pair arms wrap around his chest, squeezing, and chanhee’s rambling is effectively cut off. he stills for a moment, so many more questions running through his mind, because kevin’s always so so _happy_ and barely anyone ever sees him like this and chanhee only wants to know what’s _wrong,_ what’s making him this way, how he can make it stop. but he pushes his questions down, forcefully, because kevin doesn’t need that right now. instead he gently raises his arms to settle around kevin’s shivering form to hug him back, letting kevin tuck his head onto chanhee’s shoulder, knowing he’ll wait as long as it takes until kevin’s comfortable enough to talk.

they stay like that for what seems like hours, but what’s really only minutes, and eventually chanhee tries to pull away. kevin’s breath hitches and he tightens his arms around chanhee’s torso, and chanhee quickly puts his arms back.

“kevin, i just have to shut the door, okay? and then i can make you some tea, if you want. you need to warm up, you’re freezing.” kevin doesn’t move. “it’s alright. i’m not going anywhere.”

slowly kevin lets go, and chanhee quickly grabs his hand and pulls him inside. he shuts the door, tugging kevin down the hallway.

“just lay down for a couple minutes while i make you tea, okay? i’ll be right back.” kevin nods in response, shuffling his way into chanhee’s room. chanhee frowns, worried, and heads into the kitchen.

he makes tea for both of them, all the while wondering what happened. his brow furrows as he tries to think of what could have possibly made kevin react like this, so shattered and heartbroken.

chanhee’s snapped out of his thoughts when the teapot begins to whistle, and he rushes to finish making it. he puts the tea bags in with some sugar, knowing kevin wants three spoonfuls like the sugar addict he is, before carefully gripping each of the handles and making his way back to his bedroom.

he almost drops the mugs when he pushes open the door with his foot, because kevin is lying sideways on the bed, tucked up to his chin under chanhee’s blankets, hair messily spread out under his head. he looks like he’s fast asleep, eyes closed and breathing slow, and chanhee feels like he might die because of how unbelievably cute this boy is.

he takes a deep inhale before he walks over, placing the tea on the nightstand and vaguely thinking about how he should probably care enough to do something so it doesn’t leave marks on the wood. instead he slowly sits on the edge of the bed, quiet, doing his best not to disturb kevin. his cheek is squished up against the pillow, and chanhee almost cries when he sniffles in his sleep. he looks so _peaceful._

chanhee knows he shouldn’t, but he does anyway— he brings his hand up to kevin’s head, brushing the hair out of his eyes. he smiles so, so fondly.

_god, i love you._

the words are right there, on his lips, but chanhee doesn’t say them. he presses them back down, weakly trying to keep them hidden deep somewhere in his gut. it’s harder, this time, but he tells himself over and over that he can’t say them, can’t tell him, can’t, can’t, _can’t._

chanhee stares for another moment before standing, a shuddering breath making its way past his lips. he really needs to write that essay anyways.

“wait,” kevin mumbles, voice slurred. his hand, which had been previously clutching the blanket, reaches out for chanhee. “stay.”

and chanhee’s heart _breaks._ because kevin looks like he _needs him,_ and chanhee can’t bring himself to do anything but sit back down. kevin grabs his hand, eyes shuttering, voice nearly inaudible. “sleep with me.”

chanhee flushes stupidly, quickly pushing the redness away because _what the fuck, no._ “i’ll just stay here until you fall asleep, kevin,” he says, trying to make it stern but as soft as possible. “i need to do some work that’s due monday.”

“no. it’s saturday.” _well, there's that question answered._ kevin opens his eyes, determined. “i won’t sleep until you sleep.” chanhee smiles as his eyes close, open, then close. it takes a couple seconds for him to force them open again, and the cycle repeats as they begin to shut once more.

chanhee snorts quietly as he watches kevin fight against the pull of sleep. he could just say yes and then leave after kevin goes dead to the world, so he can actually get a nice headstart on his work. he thinks about it for a moment, debating, looking down at kevin and the weak but stubborn set of his brows. pictures the tea growing cold and sad.

chanhee sighs. he can’t refuse kevin, and he’s always known it. he thinks of when changmin had asked him if he was in love with kevin; how they’d both known, then, just how far chanhee would go to make kevin happy. that he’d do anything. if this small, small act brings kevin comfort, of course he’s going to do it. who would he be to say no?

he squeezes kevin’s hand, lifting up the blankets and shimmying under. kevin smiles, relaxed, beautiful, willingly letting his eyes close at last as chanhee settles. their faces are just inches apart, and he can feel kevin’s breath on his face, soft and easy.

his heart beats fast in his chest, and he absentmindedly wonders if kevin can hear it as he falls asleep. eventually it calms into a steady rhythm and chanhee’s eyes start to shut, too, a giant and dark wave of exhaustion washing over him. their hands lie, intertwined, between them.

his essay can wait.

—

chanhee wakes, slowly, content with the lazy sense he still has from what he feels like had been an oddly tranquil dream, even though it’s one he can’t seem to remember. he’s wrapped in a feeling that’s almost peaceful as he regains consciousness, and it gives off a quietly happy energy that he vaguely hopes will stick with him throughout the day. he basks in it, for a couple minutes, the way it feels— but as soon as he opens his eyes, it evaporates.

because nothing changes. it’s still as pitch black as it was when his eyelids were closed, it’s still as unchanging and utterly _solid_ as it was when he was blissfully unaware of its presence outside of his head. it’s not the start to an early day, as he assumed— not by any means. and suddenly the blackness of the night is surrounding him, blocking his vision; engulfing him so it can swallow him whole. his grip on reality is still just out of reach, because his mind is hazy and disoriented and unclear, and the fear sweeps over him with no resistance because how unprepared can someone _be?_ the way it feels as though there’s no right way up or down, no order to anything, is so overwhelming that he can’t seem to breathe anymore, and his breath starts coming in short gasps because what if the walls are closing in on him right now he can’t see anything to make sure and he where _is_ he because he knows he should be in his room but he can’t _remember_ going to bed and—

“hey, what’s wrong?” he hears, just a half-asleep murmur, and everything he’s been thinking fades to the background in the moment it takes for him to recognize who’s speaking.

he knows who it is because it’s the only person who could calm him down in just a split second, the only person he’d ever imagine giving the key to his hopes and dreams right alongside his biggest fears. his best friend, the love of his life, the boy whose side he’ll always be on.

it rushes back, everything that happened. the way kevin came to him for help because of some unspoken event, trusting chanhee to always be there for him, no matter what. it should be _chanhee_ asking kevin what’s wrong, not the other way around.

“nothing, kevin, i’m fine,” he says, reassuring. his voice is shaking, but he thinks, _hopes_ it passes as alright. “how… how about you? do you want to… talk about whatever happened earlier?” he’s met with silence. “if you don’t want to, though, that’s fine. obviously. just… if you’re comfortable, i’m here.”

it’s still quiet, and chanhee starts to feel a different kind of panic in the dark than before.

“jacob broke up with me,” kevin says, finally, bluntly, and chanhee’s heart drops.

he feels a lot of things, then, too fast for him to process: a sense of relief, at the fact that he won’t have to be hurt by them any longer, quickly overpowered by worry and concern because _this_ thing, this thing that he didn’t think would ever happen, is why kevin’s in so much pain? it’s confusing, because he can’t for the life of him imagine why anyone would want to leave kevin, want to be apart so strongly that they’d willingly and knowingly hurt the most wonderful human being on planet earth, let alone _jacob._

(there’s guilt, too, at the relief, but he only feels that later.)

everything he feels, thinks, is portrayed to kevin only as a single intake of breath, harsh and startled and _shocked._

chanhee doesn’t have to vocalize the question of _why._ kevin breathes in, slower and more controlled than chanhee, and keeps on going.

“he said… he said that he’s not what i want?” he lets out the breath, shuddering, right alongside a pained laugh, and chanhee thinks maybe anger should be one of the emotions he’s feeling. “i told him that… i told him that i didn’t understand, that i loved him, that i— that i was starting to think that maybe i could be with him a long, long time. but he wouldn’t listen. he just kept saying, over and over again, that what i was looking for wasn’t him. that he wasn’t what i wanted.” his voice breaks, and chanhee can hear him trying to hold everything back.

he reaches out blindly to his left, finding kevin and taking him in his arms. kevin’s head presses against chanhee’s chest as his fists clutch the material of chanhee’s sweater. it’s then that kevin lets himself start crying, and chanhee thinks he might too.

“i just don’t— i don’t understand, chanhee,” he sniffles weakly. “no one’s ever really loved me like that before, and i thought… i thought jacob did. i know _i_ did. or… i thought i did. maybe it was too much for him— for both of us. i don’t know.” kevin stops, voice barely a murmur. chanhee can hear his words beginning to slur and mix together, exhaustion finally taking over.

chanhee hugs kevin close, burying his face in the mess of black hair. their legs tangle, a little bit, and chanhee thinks about how he’s forgotten the feeling of just lying with someone. it’s comforting, and soft, and he wishes they were here under different circumstances so he could have this forever.

“but maybe this is enough,” he hears kevin mumble, and he startles, because he’d thought kevin had fallen asleep long before. “you’re always there for me. you always have been, i guess. yeah… so, thank you. so much. i love you.”

 _i love you, too,_ chanhee thinks. or maybe he says it out loud, he isn’t sure— but it doesn’t really matter, either way, because kevin is already fast asleep in the comfort of his arms.

 

_ one. _

 

it’s months, months later when it happens.

chanhee and kevin are in their café, as per usual. it’s a rare session of quiet studying between them, the air pleasantly still as they each work on their own things, and chanhee thinks he’s having a surprisingly productive afternoon.

he tucks a strand of freshly dyed blonde hair behind his ear, quietly humming along to the song playing from his headphones as he works. it’s lazy and comforting, and chanhee vaguely wishes through his contentment that he could capture this feeling for a lifetime.

it’s quiet for a little while longer, but then he feels heavy eyes on him as he studies, watching him intensely. it’s itchy, making his skin prickle strangely, and so he flicks his eyes up.

his eyes lock onto kevin’s, unexpectedly, and at first he barely even registers that it’s _kevin_ that’s staring at him. he glances back down, has to look back up from his notebook again to be sure, making eye contact and looking at kevin with surprise. he raises his eyebrows a bit, snarky comment on his lips, mouth quirked like it was made to poke fun.

“is studying _me_ helping you with that test you keep saying you’re going to fail?” chanhee asks, playfully teasing. he winks. “i didn’t think i was that much of an open book.”

kevin doesn’t laugh, doesn’t scowl, doesn’t respond whatsoever. just keeps _staring._ chanhee feels like he’s being picked apart and inspected, everything on display for only kevin to see, and the smile eventually slips as he shifts in his seat uncomfortably because _what the hell is wrong with kevin?_

the air feels thick with tension, and it’s unnerving, because chanhee doesn’t even know what this is about and kevin is looking at him like he was just given the answer to everything but chanhee can’t _imagine_ kevin knowing everything, not ever. kevin knowing everything means chanhee’s secret being brought to light, brought to _life,_ and suddenly it feels like his skin is crawling again.

“oh.” kevin whispers it like it’s a revelation, and his pencil clatters to the table.

the chair screeches harshly against the tile floor as kevin pushes it back, rattling as it nearly topples over. the world holds its breath. the air stills. time stumbles over a second before righting itself.

everything is silent.

chanhee watches as kevin robotically makes his way over to the door and heads out. the other people in the café are glancing over, confused, but all chanhee can do is look back at them helplessly because it’s not like he knows what just happened either.

they eventually go back to their business, but chanhee knows he won’t be able to do the same. he packs his stuff back up, deciding to go back to campus, and looks at kevin’s schoolwork spread across the other side of the table.

he sighs.

 

**_chanhee (4:07 p.m.)_ ** __

_hey you left all your stuff here_

_but i’m assuming you’re not gonna come back so_

_i’ll just give it to juyeon ig?? since he’s your roommate and whatever_

_text me soon please?_

 

—

 

kevin doesn’t text him soon.

it’s hours later that he responds, and even then, it’s nowhere close to making chanhee feel better. the texts are quick, containing nothing that even hints at what kevin means, and even though chanhee knows he won’t gain anything from it he checks his phone to reread what kevin sent for what feels like the hundredth time.

 

** _kevin (11:43 p.m.)_ ** __

_hey um_

_meet me at the park we sometimes go to when i can’t sleep?_

_i’ll explain, promise_

_** chanhee (11:45 p.m.) ** _

_ok_

 

the words don’t clear up anything _at all,_ and chanhee’s getting more anxious over everything as each second passes by because now he’s been waiting in the park for half an hour and where the _fuck_ is kevin?

chanhee huffs as he lays down at the top of the small hill they always go to in the park. he feels the grass tickle the back of his neck and arms, slightly uncomfortable but grounding, and waits.

it’s not too much longer before he registers someone making their way up the side of the hill. chanhee knows it’s kevin, so he doesn’t spare a glance, just continues looking up at the sky. he hears rather than sees a form lie down in the grass next to him; neither of them speak. it’s quiet for a few minutes, wind and night sounds the only noises between them. chanhee feels strangely relaxed compared to his anxiousness from before and tries to tell himself it’s not because of kevin’s presence.

(it doesn’t really work, but chanhee won’t be the one to say it.)

“so,” kevin starts, and chanhee smiles, because kevin’s predictable enough for chanhee to have known that this would be the moment kevin couldn’t take the silence anymore. “i realized something today.”

chanhee feels strangely nervous, like something big is about to happen, even if there’s not exactly much evidence pointing to that conclusion. his pulse quickens anyways, and he stills his fingers that had been absently pulling at strands of grass.

“what did you realize, kevin?” chanhee asks, refusing to accept the feeling that this might be a little bit important. “that leaving me on read after ditching me and your stuff in a café with no explanation for almost eight hours was a good way to spend your day?” the words seem harsh, but he says them factually and with no malice. even if the explanation is idiotic, kevin never does things without a reason.

he can hear the flinch in the tone of kevin’s muttered apology anyways, and when chanhee responds with a “don’t get too caught up on it,” they both know that it means all is forgiven.

they’re quiet again, and chanhee wonders at how much silence can speak volumes.

kevin shifts, and chanhee can feel it against his side as the sleekness of kevin’s jacket brushes his bare arm. it makes him shiver, goosebumps running their way up and down his skin, and he finally turns to look at the boy he came to the park with.

it’s strange, how much kevin still manages to take chanhee’s breath away by just being _him._ chanhee idly ponders over how lucky he is to have this closeness, this intimacy with the boy he loves thousands of times more than he thinks either of them could ever comprehend.

kevin looks simple. his glasses are perched on the edge of his nose, and the light of the streetlamp flashes in the lens. chanhee knows that their argument over whether or not kevin would look good in glasses has chanhee as the winner, because it only increases the aesthetic of everything kevin wears. his hair is messily parted to the side, black strands effortlessly artsy. he’s wearing a loose, white t-shirt underneath his black coat, and as kevin braces himself up with one hand and turns to look down at where chanhee lies, chanhee thinks he’s never been more in love than he is right now.

kevin’s head blocks the light of the moon from chanhee’s line of vision, and as chanhee looks at how the glittering and winking stars frame his head in a halo of beauty and kevin opens his mouth to speak, he thinks nothing could have ever been as fitting for this moment as this.

“choi chanhee, i think i really, really like you.”

surprisingly, chanhee’s heart doesn’t stop. his mind doesn’t short-circuit. his thoughts don’t run away from him. he doesn’t misunderstand what kevin means like the idiots in changmin and younghoon’s k-dramas would. the world doesn’t stop, not for something as unimportantly significant as this secluded, wonderful confession.

instead, everything feels… clear. as clear as kevin’s voice, as the night sky, as the breeze lightly blowing kevin’s hair sideways across his face. as clear and unchangeable as the decision chanhee makes in that moment, the moment that chanhee knows he’ll always remember, forever and ever and ever.

he sits, slowly, makes sure he doesn’t let his face say too much. kevin looks so, so conflicted at chanhee’s reaction, and chanhee wants to wipe away the words he knows kevin will say before they even leave the boy’s lips.

so he does.

chanhee throws his leg over kevin’s, lightly straddling him. he cups the sides of kevin’s face with his hands and _knows_ that the care he places into it, into this simple gesture, could never hold the entirety of the feelings he’s had all these years, even though somehow it does.

they stare into each other’s eyes for a moment, two, three, and the wideness of kevin’s eyes endears chanhee so much that he can’t seem to help himself from leaning in and kissing kevin softly for one, two, three, four, an infinite number of those very same moments.

chanhee pulls away, eventually, neither of them having moved for the time they had been pressed together. his heart soars, lighter than it’s been in years, and he thinks of how absolutely funny it is that he’s over the moon. 

“well, i’m going to have to one-up you on that one,” chanhee starts, smile splitting the beginnings of a crack into the divide that, truly, should never have been between them in the first place. “because kevin moon, i think i really, really love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> constructive criticism is very much appreciated! this is the first fic i've ever posted or even really finished though so go easy on me pls
> 
>  
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/wonuwrld)


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